


Temperance

by Tinyshot



Category: The Outer Worlds (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Friends to Lovers, Rating May Change, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-30
Updated: 2019-12-15
Packaged: 2021-01-15 01:03:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21244964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tinyshot/pseuds/Tinyshot
Summary: How does one cope with a complete change in one's personality? How do people around them?





	1. Chapter 1

A lighter wheel makes a satisfying scraping noise when flicked. She inhales quickly, catching the flame.

Sorting through the gear they picked up during their last incursion, she tosses crappy armor and guns into one pile, something usable into another. A brand new tossball stick? Felix is just as likely to mount it on the wall as beat people with it. It lands into a useful pile with a clanking noise.

“I do so love it when you make my receivers crinkle with excessive decibels,” quips ADA. The captain rolls her eyes.

“You could have gotten used to it by now. That’s what I always do when we get back. Just mute if you don’t like it.”

“Reverberations carry through the ship at 67.834% efficiency. I wouldn’t be able to ignore it unless I completely mute all sound.”

“Of course. My apologies. How else are you going to know which soap opera Parvati and Felix are watching today.”

“Captain…”

“Just get over it, ADA.”

“_Captain_. Vicar Max is outside your quarters. It appears that he wishes to speak with you.”

“Oh. Um, thanks.”

She takes one last drag of her cigarette before crushing the butt into an ashtray.

“Come on in, good vicar!” She shouts over her shoulder.

A quiet whisper of long robes is the only thing that gives away the priest’s presence. He is awfully stealthy for a man of his size.

She gets up from the floor and dusts herself off carelessly. She then turns around peers at the vicar. Still Max… and yet somehow… not?

“Everything alright?”

She means it in both general way and… well. He hasn’t been the same since their trip on Scylla.

He smiles, crow’s feet at the corners of his dark eyes thrown in high relief.

“Yes. Better than ever, in fact.”

She narrows her eyes and sighs, resting her bottom against the side of the table, the metal edge is cool even through her trousers.

“That’s all you have to say about it?”

“Should there be something else?”

She shakes her head. She can’t quite put her finger on it. It was like a stranger has broken into her house and rearranged all the furniture. Same, but oh so different. Foreign.

“So serene. I have to admit, I kinda miss the angry, determined smartass you were. Barely holding together the rage and frustration kind of Max. It was something that was part of your intrinsic… uh… _ Maxness?_

He laughs, and there is warmth in the sound that wasn’t there before.

“Yes, yes, I was quite an ass. To be fair, I still am, just much more self-aware.”

“Uh-huh… so… did you want something?”

“Do I have to have a reason to see a good friend?”

She gives him a crooked smile.

“That’s how it usually goes. Everyone needs something from me.”

“Not this time.”

She gives him the _ look_. The one that makes people fold at the knees in fear. Usually.

“... I almost believe you.”

Stepping over the haphazard pile of gear, she dives headfirst into a crate by her bed.

“Whiskey? Vodka? Got some beer too, I think.” She calls out from the innards of the container.

“Whiskey will do nicely.”

She re-emerges from the crate holding a bottle.

“Mind going to the mess and grabbing us some glasses?”

“None here?” He quicks his eyebrow.

“I usually just chug it from the bottle,” she shrugs.

“That’s fine by me.”

She cocks her head to the side before taking a gulp. The liquid burns all the way down, but she doesn’t cringe, instead reveling in the warmth it brought.

“What happened with the neat freak Max? Who are you and what have you done to him?”

He laughs again, softly, and reaches out to take the bottle out of her unresisting hand.

“I’m still me, dear Captain. Only… different.”

“That doesn’t make any sense. You can’t be same and different at the same time.”

His smile takes on a predatory edge. He never can resist a good philosophical debate.

“Is metal not metal any longer after it has been cast and molded into shape?”

She pulls the bottle back to her after he has taken a sip. To give her some buzz yes, but also to give her an extra moment to think.

“I suppose no, but people are not objects to be shaped, despite the evidence to the contrary I’ve encountered on Halcyon… but that wasn’t what I meant. You are fundamentally different person, Max. Like if you had been transmuted…”

“Like lead into gold?”

“Now you just flatter yourself.”

“I did warn you, Captain. I’m still an ass.”

He takes the bottle back and takes another swig. She looks at him, into him, through him.

“I suppose there is something left of the old you. Going back to your metal analogy, impurities floating on the top. Leftovers.”

“I_mpurities_. Such an… undignified word. Lesser metals mixed in with the pure… perhaps it’s good that they are nearly gone.”

She smiles, meeting his dark eyes head on.

“But alloys are stronger."

His brows shoot up, eyes widening.

“I… never thought of that before.”

She slides the bottle out of his unresisting fingers.

“A nugget of wisdom for you then, good vicar.”

“You really are going all in this metal analogy, aren’t you.”

She toasts him with the bottle and they both laugh.

“You are a wise woman, Captain.”

“Don’t sound so surprised.”

His smile is so warm it burns her insides stronger than whiskey.

“In any event… I just wanted to thank you. For everything.”

She puts the bottle down on the table carefully, gingerly.

“Are you leaving the crew?” Her voice is too tense, she meant for it to sound lighter.

“I… what? No, can I not thank you for what you’ve done for me?”

“Ah,” she lets out a breath she didn’t realize she has been holding.

“It simply sounded like… well, like a goodbye.”

“No. No, that was not my intention.”

“Good. Good…”

The silence that follows can only be described as awkward. She studies him, the impeccable robes, the broad shoulders. Neat and groomed hair, square jaw. Up to his face, and she can’t avoid looking at his lips. By the stars, her eyes might as well be glued to them. She can imagine all to vividly hooking her fingers under his chin, running her thumb across his lower lip, and pulling him closer.

She tears her gaze away with some mental effort. _ Focus_. Look at the weird purple fungus she for some reason put on top of her sleeping pod. On second thought that might not have been her brightest idea, but...

She turns back to vicar and looks up at his eyes, feeling her cheeks tingle with warmth. Max is a perceptive man…

No doubt back in Edgewater he had plenty of women falling over themselves to get his attention. Compared to all the rest of the sorry excuses for carrying the Y chromosome in that miserable town, he was - and still is - absolutely stunning.

His expression is composed, friendly and mildly interested. A vicar’s equivalent of a poker face, as in “yes of course, I’m still listening to your concerns.”

She wonders if they have classes for that in the seminary. “How to not fall asleep through confessions and maintain a proper face while doing so” or something.

She turns away and screws the cap onto the bottle.

“I should get back to my work. This junk isn’t going to sort itself.”

“Of course.” His voice is soft, barely perceptible through the noise of the ship.

“Uh… yes. Feel free to stop by anytime. My door is always open. Figuratively.”

“Thank you.”

She can feel the cold emptiness in the room when he leaves. Max sure does have a presence. How does one person take up so much room?

She collapses down on her bunk, pieces of gear and weaponry strewn all over the floor, forgotten, and flicks open a crumpled pack of Spacer’s Corona with her thumb.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was sad that Outer Worlds didn't feature a romance option. I would so go after Max, he is so amazingly written.  
I usually go for an undescribed protagonist so you can plug in your own. Hope you like it!
> 
> Leave me a comment, tell me what you think :) I'll try to slow burn this, but we'll see how it goes :)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can we all agree that Felix is such a twerp.

“When they make a serial out of our adventures, who do you think will play us?”  
The captain rolls her eyes and takes another sip of her tea. It burns her tongue and she makes a face.

Felix waggles his eyebrows.

“Maybe they’d get Reynard Devereaux to play me.”

Parvati spurts into her cup.

“Law, no! You are too… too… uh...”

“Twerpy?” innocently suggests captain. Nyoka snorts. Felix immediately flushes with indignation.

“I think more Barnie Bricks then Devereaux,” grins the mechanic.

“He’s built like a brick shithouse, thus the name,” interrupts Ellie, “dear Felix will need to punch more people to get there. A LOT more.”

The captain is distracted by a shadow moving across the table. She looks up from her cards.

“Ah, good vicar. Come sit with us. Am I right in suspecting priests are not allowed games of chance?”

Max looks over his shoulder at her, then at the scattered cards on the table. A corner of his mouth turns up just slightly.

“You would be right… if I cared to follow the edicts any longer.”

He pulls up a chair next to her and steeples his fingers.

“Not that I was good at following them to begin with…” his low voice and conspiratorial gaze make her smile helplessly in response.

“... but don’t get distracted. There has to be a leading character, of course, that’s our cap. But there has to be a romance!”

“Excuse you?” Captain glares at Felix over her cards, narrowing her eyes. Her hand is conveniently hiding her mouth which is fighting the twisting motion of a grin.

Grin of a shark that is about to play with her food that is.

“I mean, I’m the most eligible guy round here, can you imagine the on-screen action? Especially if we get Devereaux. He’s quite famous for his…”

“Asscheeks,” mutters Ellie into her ear.

“Romantic story of picking up a troubled twerp from a dumpster fire he found himself in, how very cliche.” Deadpans the Captain, her eyes are barely slits.

“... you can bounce a nickel off those. The only reason I’ve watched the “Last Flotilla”, they had awful narrative,” continues Ellie. The captain sniggers into her hand.

“Okay fine, who then? Parvati?”

“I think she’s quite taken with Junlei.”

“CAPTAIN.”

“We all know. You two are precious.” She winks at Parvati whose cheeks are semaphore red by then.

“Ellie?”

Ellie and Captain turn to look at each other for a good long second.

“BWAHAHAHA!”

Both of them double over in laughter, with Captain inelegantly bouncing her forehead on the table. Ellie continues to snort into her glass even after they’ve gotten some semblance of control over themselves a minute later.

“Don’t tell me Nyoka…”

“Naw kid. She might be, but I’m not interested. No offense.”

”None taken.” Nyoka toasts her with her bottle.

”I’m just here to kick ass.”

“Well then, there has to be someone! How ‘bout Graham.”

“He’s dead. And, he is crazy. Was crazy.”

“But we’re talking a serial! Anything can happen there, adaptation liberty! I mean, the guy had cheekbones! And that haircut!”

“Awful beard though. Hard pass.”

“Lydia?”

“She’s pretty, I'll give you that much. And a pile of cash is quite the aphrodisiac. But, also nuts.”

“You’re really picky, cap’n.”

“A lady must have standards.”

“Since when are you a lady,” laughs Nyoka. The captain takes a slurping sip from her chipped teacup with a pinky finger stuck out.

“What about Max here?” Parvati is a picture of innocence, looking at the vicar with those big round eyes.

“Isn’t he like, old.”

“I’m sitting right here, young man,” Max folds his arms across his broad chest disapprovingly, but there is laughter in his eyes. “And it’s not old. It’s _ experienced _.”

“Wait, what. Aren’t you a priest.”

“I never was a good one,” shrugs Max. The captain coughs. There is suddenly too little oxygen reaching her lungs. She fumbles with a pack of Spacer’s Corona to not look at the vicar.

“I guess you could spin that out. An uptight priest and a freedom loving captain, subverting him from the Law?”

“I should think I’d be the one doing… subverting.”

Max’s voice is low and calm, velvety and dangerous. She pats her pockets in search of a lighter, again ignoring the conversation.

“Just imagine the product placements for that kind of story!”

Captain reaches over the table and flicks Felix on the forehead, hard.

“Ow! What the hell that was for?”

“There is _ not _ going to be a break in a romantic scene to declare undying love for Auntie Cleo’s breath mints.”

“Have you tried them though?”

Captain drags a hand over her eyes with a long sigh.

“I think I’m done for the night. If you’re also done trying to set my imaginary character of imaginary serial up to get laid with someone, I suggest you do the same.”

She tosses her hand across the table and cards flare out in a theatrical fan.

“Straight flush, by the way.”

She sweeps up the credit chit.

Only when cleaning up the cards to put back in the deck, Parvati takes a good look at captain’s winning set.

“Wait, what?..”

“Hm?” Max looks up from the small book he’s reading.

“Oh. Nothing, it’s just… those card’s back sides don’t really match.”

Max chuckles quietly.

“Better not tell the rest of the crew. Actually, give me those.”

“Huh?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for a long delay between chapters, but life is life. I’ll try to continue working on this, as I really loved Outer Worlds and it’s characters, but for now this is on a bit of a backseat for me. I write when it strikes my fancy, and if I try to rush it it usually is not going to happen.  
Thank you for your patience with me, and we’ll see where this goes next.  
Comment with your thoughts and feelings about the chapter, it really helps motivate me to write more :) it reminds me that there are people who care about what happens with the story, and that I don’t want to disappoint.


	3. Chapter 3

The captain quite literally jumps in place when she hears the door slide open.

“What the…”

“Confess.”

She sputters, recognizing the vicar’s voice. She hastily throws on her discarded jacket and holds it close with her arms. She is already half-dressed down for bed.

“Max? What the hell are you doing here?”

Vicar slowly approaches her, smiling slightly. He holds up two cards between his index and middle fingers.

“You should better hide the evidence of your crimes, dear captain.”

She grins.

“Didn’t expect anyone to actually clean up. They never do, and then I can just pull my little secrets out of SAM’s induction port.”

“Parvati.”

The captain shakes her head and laughs.

“I suppose I should have guessed.”

“At least the girl is too… pure to realize what you were doing.”

“For now.”

She reaches out to take back her ‘evidence’. Max shifts his hand out of her reach.

”What is the meaning of this,” she gives him a nasty glare. Vicar is unmoved, smiling at her serenely.

“Confess.”

“You’ve got to be joking.” She takes another swipe for the cards.

Max grasps his hands behind the back, keeping the slips of cardboard securely out of her range.

“I would hope you don’t take the matter frivolously, dear captain. We are talking about you making peace with yourself and the wrongs you do. Your eternal soul, if you will.”

She stares at him, mouth agape.

“You are serious.”

“Quite.”

She huffs in annoyance and assumes her standard ‘don’t you dare to get in my way’ pose. Fists testing on the top of her hip bones, shoulders square, back ramrod straight, drawing herself up to her full mediocre height.

She is looking at the vicar head-on, and she does not miss his dark eyes dart downward as her jacket falls open, no longer held close by her defensive pose. A black lacy brassiere she picked up at Byzantium as a small luxury treat for herself is now visible in the gap, her chest rising and falling with quickened breathing.

His gaze lingers for a bit over a second before he gets a hold of himself and looks back up at her face, but it is too late by then. There is a smug smirk on her face. She can hear him take in a sharp breath, nostrils flaring.

She leans closer, lips parting near his ear.

“Confess,” she whispers.

“Nothing gets past you, dear captain.” Max sighs and takes a measured step back. “I indeed admit to being merely human.”

“Uh-huh.” She flips a pack of Spacer Corona out and tucks a cigarette into the corner of her mouth. “That’s all?”

“Should there be something else?” His brow quirks up, his face a picture of an innocent misunderstanding.

“In that case, everything we do is ‘being human’. Every mistake we make, every crime we commit, every fork of the road we look back on and think ‘damn I wish _ that _turned out different’. Everything is a product of the human condition.”

“Back before my more enlightened days-”

“Like, ye olden two weeks ago?”

Max rolls his eyes before choosing to ignore her comment.

“... I’d challenge you on that. I did firmly believe in predetermination and fate and the Path... But I see now that is hubris.”

“Hubris, huh?..”

The captain taps her chin and thoughtfully curls a finger on her free hand, and then another one.

“That’s two in less than a minute.”

“Excuse me?”

Her lips curl up in a self-satisfied smirk.

“Deadly sins, good vicar. Deadly sins.”

Max coughs and adjusts his high collar. She opens her hand and makes a little wave with her fingers.

“My cards.”

He brings them back around and studies them for a second. Probably avoiding her gaze.

“I have witnessed your force of personality first-hand many times, but never before I realized how easily you turn any conversation in your favor. I am in awe, dear captain. Somehow I have ended up the chastised party, rather than the one commencing the chastising.”

“Flatterer.” She lits the waiting cigarette, takes a drag and puffs a stream of smoke to the side.

He hands over her spare cards. Her hand deliberately closes his and lingers, keeping the contact.

“From the bottom of my lying, cheating, thieving, manipulating and murdering heart, I thank you, good vicar.”

He blinks, and his hand makes a small move to respond to hers.

She drops her hold, snatching the cards and turns away.

“And now, get the hell out of my room.”

As she listens to his hasty steps, the captain puts a lightly shaking palm over her heart. It’s beating against her ribs like a caged bird.

Somehow she has managed to keep her cool through most of the rather suggestive/philosophical conversation with her unholy crush. That only taken all of her willpower and self-control, no big deal. Though realizing that he is quite obviously attracted to her mid-way did wonders to boost her confidence and snark. She should remember that feeling. It is quite nice.

She can do it again. Definitely needs to do it again.

What can she say? She likes to play with fire.

Her lighter’s fire sparks again and again as she mindlessly flicks the scratchy wheel under her thumb, staring into the infinite abyss outside her window. In her mind, it looks back with dark, all-knowing and all-understanding, hungry eyes. Max’s eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's late at night and I should probably sleep on this but oh well. Here's another chapter, hope you enjoyed! Leave me a comment if you liked it, I love reading them :3


	4. Chapter 4

“So how have you been dearie.”

The captain gently blows over the steaming cup of tea.

“It’s like you don’t know everything that’s happening in the system. I bet you know what brand of toilet paper we use on my ship.”

“Spacer’s Choice, but that’s beside the point.” Gladys looks at her over the top of her glasses. “Aside from the fact that Auntie Cleo’s stuff is so much softer and less prone to shredding.”

The captain gives the older woman a flat stare.

“Try some of the cookies.” Gladys smiles brightly. The captain sighs in response, but takes her up on the offer.

“What I meant is, how are _ you _ doing. I may know lots of things, but I can’t read minds.”

“I…”

Where to even begin? The captain looks down into her cup.

“I can see you’re quite troubled. Come on now, it’s bad for your health to keep it all in.”

The captain taps the sides of her cup, watching the soft swirling in the dark liquid.

“Parvati is not the only one trying to solve some personal problems.”

“Oh I see. Should you need a cosmetic set I might be able to procure one for you too.”

“It’s not that, Gladys. I… I don’t even know if he’d be interested in something.”

“Sounds like it’s a man you’re talking about. Take it from little old me, men are always up for certain something.”

“He’s a vicar, Gladys. Or err.. maybe?”

“Ah, the gloomy gus from the Edgewater. I remember him.”

“I’m not too familiar with how their order operates anyway. Are they allowed families?”

“Generally, no. But it won’t surprise you how corrupt their institution is.”

“So I suspected.”

“Don’t let that little impediment stop you dearie. Have fun. Forbidden fruit tastes sweeter, or so I’m told.”

“The problem is… he’s gone through some uh… weird changing experience. I can hardly recognize him anymore. His whole demeanor is altered. I don’t know the man any longer. I don’t even know if he knows himself.”

Gladys takes a sip of her tea and hums thoughtfully.

“I see. Seems to me you’re answering your own question.”

“Huh?”

Gladys smiles. There is a cupcake in her hand that she proffers to the captain with a flourish. She could have sworn there were no cupcakes on the table.

“Get to know him.”

The captain blinks.

“Go out, get a drink. Have _ fun _. You know how to work the people, I know what for a fact,” Gladys winks at her, “see if the man you knew is still there somewhere. Or failing that, what to really make of the new one.”

“I…” the captain rubs her face, “I guess I’m an idiot, am I.”

“Sometimes we just need someone else to say it out loud, dearie.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, your feedback is very welcome!


End file.
